MAJOR SQUICK WARNINGS - THIS IS THE BIRTH OF THE TWINS FROM H'S POV, AND WHILE I TRIED NOT TO BE GRAPHIC SOME PEOPLE MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS. DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU WILL BE SQUICKED, GO TO THE NEXT CHAPTER WHICH WILL MAKE SENSE WITHOUT THIS ANYWAY.

DO NOT READ THIS AND THEN WHINE ABOUT IT TO ME - - - - - I AM WARNING YOU - - - -

Ron's visit at Easter had been both a blessing and a curse. For two whole weeks Harry hadn't been lonely, had been able to share his fears and show his lover the changes his body was going through. The curse had of course come into play when Ron had left him, and Harry was once more alone. Molly Weasley was a wonderful woman but her touches just weren't as comforting as Ron's – it made a difference to have the man who'd been intimate with Harry's body touching his back when it ached, or rubbing his hair after a nightmare.

He was grateful for her presence and support, but even more grateful that she left the day Ron came back from Hogwarts, kissing his cheek goodbye and promising to come and see him the moment Sunny came to fetch her. The young Phoenix was fascinated by Harry's changing shape and spent hours sitting wherever Harry was, watching him closely. Harry knew that the bird would fetch Molly the moment he went into labour, and Hedwig was primed to go to Hermione as well. Both birds monitored him daily, which was an oddly soothing attention.

Ron had been astonished by the size Harry had become, and even he was a little alarmed at his ever-expanding girth though Midwife Alice assured him that he was a healthy size for twins. He also had an uncontrollable urge to bake, which his lover was enjoying as Harry turned out loaves, cakes, buns, and tarts in both sweet and savoury combinations. The cravings had settled down, so Ron wasn't confronted with onion and apple or anything too alarming. Harry's pumpkin scones were a big hit.

He was baking now, up with the dawn while Ron slept, feeling restless and a little achy. Deep slow breaths eased the aches and pains, and the sifting and weighing and mixing occupied his hands and mind successfully. This was a monster fruitcake that would go into storage for Christmas, the time spent in storage enhancing its flavour. He was sliding it into the oven when Ron stumbled downstairs, and Harry received his morning hugs and kisses happily, snuggling into Ron's arms. With the restrictions on the way he could lie he missed the cuddles they shared in bed, his current shape meant standing up was the only way they could get close face to face.

"You're up early luv," Ron muttered into Harry's hair, "Feeling ok?"

"Just a bit achy and restless," Harry knew better than to conceal the way he felt from Ron, who seemed to have developed a sixth sense when it came to the green eyed teen. Ron ushered him into a seat at the table and started breakfast, scrambling some eggs quickly and making toast for them both while the kettle boiled for tea. Harry only ever seemed to want a light breakfast, and with all the snacking he did on fruit and his own baking during the day Ron knew better than to argue with him about it. They'd meditate together in the conservatory – something Ron had asked Harry to teach him – and then work through the gentle stretching routine that Alice had taught Harry to do once the kitchen was squared away.

Banned from helping with the washing up after breakfast Harry sat and watched Ron clean the kitchen, chatting lightly about the school gossip that he never got enough of. He directed his lover in the removal of the fruitcake from the oven and Ron turned it out of the tin, placing it on a wire rack to cool. Harry had a container ready to seal the freshness of the cake in and Ron competently sealed it away, adding the used cake tin to the washing up while they discussed the latest Cannons game. Harry had bought Ron a life long subscription to Quidditch Weekly for his seventeenth birthday - a gift that was as much for the both of them as anything as they were both Quidditch mad and Ron let him read the magazines when he was done with them. He shifted in his chair and took a deep breath as the ache intensified sharply for a moment and Ron turned to look at him quickly.

"Pain?" Ron asked sharply and Harry nodded, rubbing at the band that was tightening across his belly. Ron grabbed the Floo powder and called the midwife before Harry could even protest.

"Ron," he grumbled when Ron pulled his head out of the fireplace, "I'm ok."

"Every twelve minutes your breathing changes to cope with the aches, and this time you actually hissed a little," Ron replied firmly, "Harry, you could be in labour."

"But I'm due in three days," Harry protested and Ron shrugged, coming to rub the small of Harry's back and kissing his temple. The back massage felt good and Harry leaned back into it gratefully.

Alice was there in a flash and running a spell over him even before he had a chance to say hello.

"This is it, Mr Potter," she beamed, "You've started labour. Upstairs with you, time to prepare the birthing room."

Alice carried all the equipment she needed to set up a labour ward – or birthing room as she called it – miniaturised in the carpet bag that went everywhere with her. Harry had decided that he wanted the babies born in their bedroom, and Ron had agreed wholeheartedly. He let Ron usher him upstairs, where Hedwig and Sunny both sat on one of the posts for their bed.

"Off you go, he's ready," Ron said to the birds and Hedwig hooted softly before heading to the window. Ron vanished the glass while Sunny disappeared in a flash of fire. Alice was enlarging the platform that Harry would use to give birth on, a raised surface that he could squat on with rails around the front for him to grip and lean on. Ron would have a tall stool so he could sit level with his lover, and Alice would be on a shorter stool. Harry changed into the gown that Alice insisted he wear and let him examine her. She suggested walking up and down the corridor and Ron linked arms companionably with him to do so, stopping and breathing with Harry when the sharper pains came, eventually coming to stand in front of Harry, who put his arms around Ron's neck and rocked his hips back and forth to ease the worst of it while Ron's hands rubbed slowly and gently at his aching sides. He'd get a kiss after each contraction and they'd start walking again, up and down the hall slowly.

"Let's unlock the nursery," Harry suggested as they passed it and put his hand on the door. The lock clunked and Ron pushed the door open curiously. He had agreed to let Harry have complete control of the preparations, though he'd suggested a few names for the children that were on their way. The activity had been a very welcome distraction to Harry, and his hours of thought and planning had resulted in a room that was painted a restful green, with twin cots and a set of dressers. There were two armchairs by the well-guarded fireplace, which would be perfect for nursing their children in, and though the room was plain and simple it spoke of home.

Ron explored curiously while Harry stood in the door, and was across the room when a sharper than usual pain took hold of him, making him hiss and pant to control his reaction. Ron leapt to his side and held him steady, panting with him and helping him rock.

"I felt something move," Harry mumbled into Ron's neck anxiously and Ron nodded, keeping up the rocking until Harry's shaking stopped. He didn't protest when the redhead walked him back to their room or when Alice insisted he get into place. He blushed as she shifted his gown and touched parts of him that had only ever known Ron's amorous hands, fully aware that his modesty was about to be completely disregarded in the next few hours.

"Nearly ready, Mr Potter," Alice sat back from her examination, "I want you to start panting with each contraction, but make sure you don't push until I say to."

Harry nodded and shifted uneasily on the platform, grasping Ron's wrist gratefully when it was offered and gasping when the next one hit before panting it out, Ron panting with him and stroking his tightly clutching fingers lightly. The pains were coming more rapidly now and the rocking was only helping a little. The last one seemed to take forever and there was a definite sense of movement during it, which had Harry crying out at the end.

"Good boy," Alice murmured, "You're ready to push now. Take a deep breath with the next one and off you go."

Harry sucked in a deep breath and Ron chanted to ten as he bore down, groaning the air out. The urge to push overwhelmed him and he did it again and again, the pain increasing each time. Harry was caught in the rhythm, unable to do anything but breathe and push as Ron chanted and encouraged him until there was a final strong sense of loss and the urge passed.

A wet smacking noise sounded and Harry heard Alice murmur a cleaning spell as he panted and shook and Ron wiped his face with a cool cloth.

"Your son," Alice came around to where they could see her and offered the wailing baby to Ron, who took him when Harry nodded. Ron unwrapped the baby, counting fingers and toes while Harry looked on, marvelling at the miracle that they'd made with their love.

"Arthur James," Harry murmured, and tears ran down Ron's face. Harry had wanted family names and it hadn't been hard to decide that their little boy would be named for his grandfathers. Ron hadn't known the sex of their twins, and Harry had a surprise in store for him… or would once this was over.

"Oh Harry," his lover breathed, "Look what you made…"

Harry beamed and reached out to caress the wailing bundle. Alice handed Ron a bottle – Harry couldn't nurse the way a witch would – and he watched his lover feed the baby while he wept with happiness. Harry was aware that Alice was touching him but ignored it in favour of stroking the dark auburn hair and smiling at Ron. The baby was suckling contentedly and once the bottle was done Arthur went to sleep.

A sudden sharp pain had Harry hissing and Ron panted with him as Harry rocked futilely, trying to ease the urgency he felt. Once the pain passed Ron stood and let him kiss his son before hurrying the baby to the bassinet that was lying ready and returning to Harry's side.

"Oh Merlin this hurts," Harry moaned, his first complaint and Ron bit his lip, regaining his stool and offering an already red wrist for Harry to squeeze. Harry hissed and panted crying out at the end when there was a sharp sensation of shifting about.

"Almost Mr Potter, almost," Alice said quietly, "Pant hard now, pant…"

Harry wanted to tell her to sod off with her panting and almost but couldn't spare the breath or concentration. It hurt far too much and he was tired. As much as he loved Ron and their son, he wasn't sure he was ready to do this again so soon. Ron was panting hard with him, pressing Harry's hand onto his own wrist and encouraging Harry to squeeze him rather than bearing down. Harry was grateful that Ron had taken the childbirth classes seriously because right now his lover was a rock.

"Alright, push!" Alice encouraged and Ron started chanting again while Harry groaned with effort. Time once more collapsed into stretch and strain and struggle until the pain peaked and Harry yelled, straining with all his might.

Once more there was a sense of loss, a wet smack and the wail of a baby. Spells were uttered and Ron wiped him down, kissing his temple and rubbing his hair and shoulders, whispering words of encouragement and love. Harry was exhausted - too exhausted to care what was happening right now even though he wanted to see…

"Your daughter," Alice beamed and Ron squawked in surprise, earning a tired snort from Harry. Alice was casting on him now, and he whimpered in discomfort as his body readjusted itself to being entirely male. Internal organs shouldn't shift about like that, and it was all he could do to keep still. Ron was looking at him with a question in his eyes and he let that distract him from the strange sensations.

"Rosemary Molly," Harry whispered and closed his eyes, slumping gratefully against the rails and letting the world float away from him.

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